


Marriage or Revenge

by duguqingxia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22399936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duguqingxia/pseuds/duguqingxia
Summary: AU. In the last battle, Voldemort killed everyong. However, Harry was taken away by a mysterious man, who offered an alliance under one condition. A not-so-harsh one? Well, perhaps.'Marry me.'
Relationships: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Kudos: 48





	Marriage or Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> -thoughts-  
> [parseltongue]

Harry was dreaming. Blood everywhere, he met a pair of tarnished-ruby-like eyes in a daze. The clean white robe was defiled by blood, which he associated with roses blooming in a snowy night, gorgeous yet fragile. He caressed and then kissed those colourless lips in deep desperation, like a drowning man without the last driftwood waiting for his doomed fate…

He awoke from his nightmare in a cold sweat. The memories of his dreams faded away, as the tide washed away whatever remains again and again until everything was nowhere to be found. Finally, the sense of loss gone, Harry found himself in a strange room he had never seen before.

-Where am I? Where is Ron, Hermione and everyone?-

When Harry wanted to jump up out of bed, a clear voice broke the silence of the night. 'Are you awake?' Following the voice, Harry raised his head to find a pair of bright red eyes filled with purity and sincerity. Voldemort? No, no…Not cruelty but love which Voldemort had never had was buried deep inside these eyes. 'Good evening.' The handsome young man leaning against the door smiled lightly with a bunch of purple red sages in his embrace. Flowers for July birth month.

'How about having some snacks? You must be hungry.' Having eaten several pumpkin pies, Harry fetched himself a cup of coffee. Iced skinny hazelnut macchiato, light ice and no whip.

-How does he know my favourite?-

Stepping closer, the young man put sages on the bedside cabinet. He bent down and carefully wiped Harry's mouth by a handkerchief from his pocket. 'I could manage it myself.' Full of tenderness, the man blinked at Harry's first sentence.

That pure white handkerchief got a conspicuous coffee stain, but the man did not seem to care at all. He put the folded napkin into his pocket, and then sat down on the bed beside Harry. 'I've got some bad news for you. I understand we all prefer good news, but sometimes we have to accept the truth.' 'Go on.' Harry looked away to avoid eye contact.

'Don't be upset. I am here with you.'

Harry began to tremble all over at his whispered words, for he knew what was between the lines. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Remus, Tonks... All those who fought by his side now passed away... Strong emotions flooded him, the mixture of exhaustion and desperation. Harry closing his eyes, sobriety at this moment was undoubtedly painful. He did not want to speak, nor did he want to think.

-Just let sleep surround me...-

'Have some sleep then.' Harry cast a glance at those smiling eyes, but oddly enough, he did not feel offended.

Harry slid into the sheet. 'I am Harry Potter. What's your name?' 'Antioch Peverell.' The dark green eyes found the red, inside which flames were burning so fiercely as to reduce everything to ashes. Even someone with a heart of stone, Harry doubted, was not able to resist such passion...

'Anything else do you want?'

Antioch kissed Harry gently on his forehead. Nothing but silence answered him. after long enough to fall asleep, Harry spoke out one word in an incredible calm.

'Revenge.’

When Harry was half awake and half asleep, he heard Antioch's voice, like a summer breeze.

'Marry me, and I shall be your weapon.'

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I am Lord Voldemort, and I am not Lord Voldemort. Well, to be precise, I am one of his soul pieces. I used to inhabit Ravenclaw's Diadem.

'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'

How true it is. Thanks to the Diadem, I recalled my long lost memories.

All started from an ordinary midsummer night. After a long trek, I casually walked towards an ordinary hotel for rest. The moonlight I bathed in that night was so gentle; destiny, however, was a cruel joke.

As a saying goes: 'A thousand and one less painful ways to die. And you chose love.'

'Happy birthday, Cadmus!' Golden red fireworks dropping down, which seemed to be a meteor shower, I saw someone standing on the hotel roof. Fires from heaven on Sodom burning in his ruby eyes, his smile lit up the world like sunshine.

Antioch Peverell. The one in my heart, however, was his brother, Cadmus. The light of those red fireworks dyed his black hair wine red, and I was drunk. He was close at hand, yet out of reach, as the untouchable wind blowing in that summer night. He noticed my too direct stare and looked me straight into my eyes.

What a pair of eyes! The darkness of the night deepened the colour of his eyes, which reminded me of thick ancient forests of Albania. He looked away because obviously he found nothing special about me. All that I wanted was to prove him wrong…

'Cad?' Cadmus smiled the most exquisite smile, which relaxed his sharp eyesight. He opened his thin lips, his rumble in unobtrusive lust: 'How could I thank you?' Antioch's cheek turned into the same colour as his eyes. [My dear bother…] Antioch quivered, probably due to the forbidden fruit of incest or the seductive hiss of Parseltongue…

The oil-painting-like view of the boy bathed in the moonlight took deep root in my heart.

I wished I was the one he loved.

One day when Cadmus was out, I talked to Antioch and kept giving him drinks. I was surprised how well everything worked. He was too innocent to notice anything amiss. I slit elder Peverell's throat and his hand loose the grip on the elder wand. I bent down to pick it up. The most powerful wand, I could use it to win anything I want, or, almost anything I want...

A pair of suede boots appeared in sight and I straightened up to find a pair of emerald eyes. They looked like bottomless cold pools. It never occurred to me that he also had a sense of loneliness and desperation. He raised his wand, in his killing curse eyes shining the red light just as fireworks on the night we met. The minute before everything went dark, my last coherent thought was that I never wanted to see this hateful look on his face…

I doubted whether Voldemort himself could remember the original reason why he was so obsessed with the elder wand, but I was not about to give him any chance to find out the truth.

It was a shame that I had to disguise myself as dead Antioch, but I could be much more pissed off if that mad nut realised he was supposed to kiss my dear Harry rather than kill him.

My eyes slightly sore and itchy, I gently touched my hard-won scarlet eyes, as crystal as the rarest 'pigeon blood' ruby. I held a bunch of purple red sages in my arms, flowers for July birth month. Leaning against the door, I hid my bitter smile and wait for my about-to-awoke Cadmus.

No one could ever know my secret.  
END


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